Saturday, September 27, 2014

Lei: I always get to the Met’s opening gala with a
mix of excitement (tiaras! a new season!) and apprehension (what if it’s
flavorless?). I find that the first show of the year in some way sets the tone
for the rest of the season and I very much expect to be thrilled, wowed and
surprised. If I get to shed some tears, all the better. This time even more so
since Le Nozze di Figaro is a personal Wolfie favorite.

Lui: This year’s gala production brought us Richard
Eyre’s refreshing take on a classic. While it was by no means
revolutionary, it was definitely a welcome modernization of the
hyper-traditional production of Nozze by Jonathan Miller in powdered
wigs, tights and corsets that it replaces. And it certainly exceeded the low
expectations set by the unimaginative Elisir d’amore that opened the
season two years ago. Eyre moves the action of the opera up a century and a
half to 1930s Seville and the shift feels natural. It presents only a few
hardly perceptible disparities with the text of the libretto, unlike some of
the gross discrepancies between text and action that resulted from last year’s
1950s era Falstaff, no matter how pleasant it was.

Rob Howell's jewel box sets.Photo credit: The New York Times

Lei: The sets were not only gorgeous but also highly
functional with a rotating mechanism that kept stage action fluid and seamless.
This production was probably able to cut as much as thirty minutes off the show
time, as transitions between acts were minimized to next to nothing. Sure, we’ve
seen rotating stages before, but this one was particularly successful since it
was entirely made up of a series of dark gold elaborate Moorish cylindrical
towers of different heights, encasing and unifying bedrooms, salons, pantry
nooks, corridors and gardens. The universe created by set designer Rob
Howell felt like a sultry micro-cosmos encapsulated in a glowing jewel box.

The plot thickens.Photo credit: Ken Howard

We were off to a good start, with an extremely cinematic
overture, during which the slow rotation of the sets, very much like a camera,
swooped through the main characters, introducing them in their habitat, all
while James Levine and the Met orchestra made fireworks with that all
too familiar Mozart score. It afforded an in medias res overview of all
the players that also cleverly showed off the sets and offered nice touches to
emphasize narrative points. The class divide between masters and servants and
the Count’s sexual escapades were made very clear from the start. The Countess
sleeps alone in her sumptuous bed while a half-naked maid rushes across the
stage to get into her uniform and head back to work after a quickie with the
Count (who looks very pleased with himself and his silk night robe). Meanwhile,
Figaro and the rest of the staff are already busy with their various chores
around the house and Antonio the drunkard gardener is, of course, already
drinking. The whole comes together like a virtuosic tracking shot by an Orson
Welles in his prime over the urgency of Mozart’s fiery overture. It was a
brilliant introduction to a fleshful world that is already bursting at the
seams with day to day activity, sensuality and life.

Susanna sets the trap.Photo credit: Ken Howard

Lui: At this point I was ready to be blown away by Peter
Mattei’s Conte Almaviva, especially after seeing him strut through the
empty house like a triumphant lion in his robe. All of a sudden I began to
rethink the possibilities of this count figure. Was he really a Don Giovanni in
a different phase of his life? Somehow cut from the same cloth as the notorious
Latin lover? I found myself reconsidering everything I knew about the character.
He is usually played as something of a dirty middle aged man who seems more
frustrated in his upper crust existence than driven to delicately feast on any
young piece of flesh he happens upon. Knowing Mattei’s considerable smooth
operator vocal abilities, I braced myself for a performance of the Conte imbued
with a debonair Don Giovanni flare. But instead, despite his seductively
lyrical honeyed baritone, Mattei played him with his nice guy good looks as
more of a boyish ingénu. I also came to realize that the role really only
showcases his voice all too rarely. It all served as a reminder that you don’t
go to Le nozze di Figaro to be moved by the male roles. The emotional
core of the opera lies elsewhere.

The remarriage plot in motion.Photo credit: Ken Howard

The second half of the show finally gives the Count more to
work with. Mattei lathered it on and melted us with his duettino with Susanna “Crudel!
Perché finora / farmi languir così” in grand Lothario fashion. Of
course, in that sequence he seems to delude himself as much if not more than he
manages to seduce Susanna. Which is also why a Don Giovanni-esque count does
not in the end really work and why we cannot expect the wonderful Mattei to
redeem the Count’s character from his fundamental foolishness. The Count is the
one who ultimately gets played, and, especially in sequences like this one, he
even acts against his best interests. He overhears something regarding the
scheme his servants are plotting against him and, despite his best intentions,
he still falls right into the trap they’ve set for him as though he doesn’t
know any better. In the Count’s big Act III aria, “Vedrò mentr’io sospiro /
felice un servo mio,” where he shows us just how aware he is of the class
warfare being waged behind his back, Mattei came out as strong as ever, giving
us glimpses of just how commanding and swooningly smooth his instrument can be.
I wanted to hear more from him and very much look forward to be whisked away by
his Don Giovanni later this season at the Met.

Figaro has a bone to pick with the ladies.Photo credit: Ken Howard

Lei: Bass baritone Ildar Abdrazakov as Figaro
was very present and in character, playfully cocky, showcasing some extremely
mobile, at times even acrobatic acting. He sang the opening aria while
literally building up a bed by moving around wood bases and placing what looked
like metal boards on them. Abdrazakov danced across the stage, energetically
hopped around, crawled on the ground with a camera, and did very dramatic
tango-like moves with Susanna in the final act, all of this while fluidly
singing in his deep and smooth Italian. For some reason at times his volume
drastically dropped, maybe it had something to do with the acoustics of the
sets. Abdrazakov’s Figaro delivered his best performances of the evening in Act
IV, particularly in his tirade against women “Aprite un po’ quegli occhi /
uomini incauti e sciocchi,”
that he delivered with great verve and perfect diction, really doing justice to
the delicious text of this aria (think “Son streghe che incantano per farci
penar / sirene che cantano per farci affogar / civette che allettano per trarci
le piume”),* all while shining his flashlight on the women in the Met’s
public.

Cherubino mulls over matters of the heart.Photo credit: Ken Howard

The gentlemen were strong, but in the war of the sexes the
ladies won big time, both plot-wise and in the singing department. The women
stole the show, and it was truly Isabel Leonard’s night. Not only she
can sing with great expressiveness, perfect Italian diction and sustained
power, but also her acting was terrific. She embodied Cherubino with the
physicality of a consummate theater actress: her slick short wig enhanced her
beautiful features and turned her into a handsome elfin boy, she moved as an
entitled horny adolescent but also wobbled convincingly on high heels when
disguised as a woman, feigning to coquettishly smoke like a flapper from a long
cigarette holder.

Some crushes die hard.Photo credit: Ken Howard

Cherubino’s attempts at seducing Susanna (really the Countess
in disguise) in Act IV were hilarious. In a fitted tux and confidence bolstered
by booze, Leonard put on all the suave moves of the most awkward and endearing
teenage boy going through puberty. Whenever she was on stage, even when not
singing, I simply could not take my eyes off her since she was always doing
something interesting and very character specific. As one of many examples,
when Susanna dressed Cherubino up in “Venite
inginocchiatevi,” Leonard kept going out of her way to turn her head to
smile to the Countess, in dreamy adoration. While we saw her last year as a
solid Dorabella in the Met’s Così, this rendition of Cherubino revealed
Leonard to be an even more mature, confident and well-rounded artist. It is a
pleasure to follow her continued evolution.

Susanna schools us.Photo credit: Ken Howard

Lui: Marlis Petersen’s Susanna grew on me over
the course of the evening. Hers is the most extensive role of the opera and
Petersen definitely rose to the occasion. Her singing was spot on throughout
but during her rendition of “Giunse alfin il momento” and “Deh, vieni, non
tardar” her voice rang out clear and strong through the house and time simply stood
still. It was a magic other worldly moment that on its own made the whole
evening worthwhile. One of those rare experiences that you go to opera for.
While this is one of my favorite passages in the opera, Petersen’s rendition of
it was completely (and ecstatically) surprising.

The wounded bird sings.Photo credit: Ken Howard

Lei: I have mixed feelings about Amanda Majeski.
The press made a big deal about how she got to make her Met debut on opening
night when, as an understudy, she “got the call” because Marina Poplavskaya
canceled for sickness (a month before the opening?) and I was honestly worried
about her being up to the task. The Countess’ role is not for novices and
really is the emotional core of the opera. Majeski’s “Porgi amor” was a bit too
frail and tentative for my taste. In “Dove sono i bei momenti” however she was
moving and her perfect balance of nostalgia for lost love and determination in
getting it back made me tear up a couple of times. Her higher register was a
bit wobbly though throughout and that should not happen to a Countess on the
Met’s opening night (or any night).

Lui: I, on the other hand, was pleasantly surprised
by her performance. Unlike other second stringers we’ve heard at the Met over
the years (and just to be clear in this case she wasn’t merely an understudy
but the singer scheduled to sing the second half of the run later this season),
Majeski was definitely on the level and up to the role. Her “Porgi amor” was
tender and delicate and moving. Though her high notes may not have soared
transcendent, her sound was nevertheless that of a wounded bird, which perfectly
fits with the role, especially in this second act opening aria. She was
particularly moving for all of these very reasons in her act three aria of
wistful reflection, “Dove sono i bei momenti.”

Lei: Last but not least, soprano Ying Fang
might have had a minuscule role as Barbarina but was brilliant in it. Her light
lyric soprano is young and fresh but also piercingly powerful. Fang delivered
Barbarina’s Act IV opening aria “L’ho perduta! Me meschina!” with an intensity
and expressiveness that were truly impressive. We discovered and appreciated
her in Shostakovic’s The Noselast year at the Met (in yet another minor
role) and after seeing her in this Nozze we will definitely be looking
out for this singer.

Cherubino gets a make over.Photo credit: Ken Howard

Lui: Richard Eyre’s direction was successful in
conveying the core of the opera though generally not radically innovative.
There were some nice touches here and there (Figaro building his wedding bed
from scratch during “Se vuol ballare,” the use of a flash camera to document
the Count’s escapades), but there were also some missed opportunities – why on
earth in “Non più andrai” does Figaro stroll around the stage alternatively
with Susanna and Cherubino? Susanna is lovely but she has absolutely nothing to
do with content of the aria being sung.

Three Nozze and a Remarriage.Photo credit: Sara Krulwich/The New York Times

Lei: Eyre’s directorial choice for the finale,
however, is what brought the entire opera to a whole other level. The final
spotlight falls on the Count-Countess couple affectionately kissing on a bench
immediately after Mattei erupts into the most heartbreaking “Contessa perdono,”
asking for his wife’s forgiveness after having been very publicly shamed for
his infidelities. Such big emphasis on the reunion of the Count and Countess,
very much in the manner of those old Hollywood screwball comedies of remarriage,
was definitely more transformative and moving than the traditional happy ending
where everybody cheers in an “all is well” fashion, in celebration of three
weddings (Figaro/Susanna, Barbarina/Cherubino and Marcellina/Don Bartolo).
This Nozze’s finale struck a more mature chord and it was again very cinematic, with the light closing in on the reconciled
couple leaving everybody else in the dark. Perched on the edge of the bench in
the garden in Susana’s borrowed wedding dress, the countess basks in the glow
of her rekindled love and the evening ends with what is effectively its fourth
wedding, making for a very promising and exciting start of the new season.